


Hand Fetish

by Callistra



Category: Dr Who - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Hand Fetish, kink bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-30
Updated: 2010-07-30
Packaged: 2017-10-10 21:04:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callistra/pseuds/Callistra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fine, long fingers spread across her book, the nails well-tended and smooth like they'd been manicured. Almost hairless, she noted, like a white spider perched on her book as he tried to hand it back to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hand Fetish

 

     She met him in a café when he ran into her, knocking her books in the air and then pausing to help her pick them up. She blinked at the courtesy, and then frowned at his face. Did she know him from somewhere?

     “Coffee?” she suggested before her brain could stop her. Her gaze dropped to his hands; and then stopped. Fine, long fingers spread across her book, the nails well-tended and smooth like they’d been manicured. Almost hairless, she noted, like a white spider perched on her book as he tried to hand it back to her.

     “Ahhh…. Rose… I can’t… sorry…” he said as he backed away. She followed him step for step until they were on the footpath. How did he know her name? She stared up, into his brown eyes.

     “And you are…?” she asked. He stopped then; one step away from the road.

     “The Doctor,” he said curtly. “I have to run -,” he said, shoving the book into her chest. She stared again at his hands, and accepted the book. Her fingers seemed like squat sausages compared to his.

     “But…” she said, but by the time she looked up he was gone. She saw him, trench coat flapping, next to a big man in a blue coat, both of them running away as fast as they could. She looked back down at the book. Underneath it was a brown paperback she had never seen before, written in a language she was sure was not of this earth.

***

     She sat on her bed, curled around her knee and looked at the book. The cover seemed to be made of some sort of leather, silky from long use. Five strange spiral symbols would have told her the name of the book could she read it; opening it showed thousands of spiral and serif symbols she had never seen before.

     She traced one of the spirals, and shivered. A cool breeze blew in her room. Suspiciously she checked the window and door; both shut tight. She traced the five symbols, and the world shuddered. She leapt off the bed, jumping to the doorway to stand underneath the doorjamb. Her heart hammered at her chest, but nothing else happened. Several embarrassing moments later, she stepped out of the door way and slid back to bed, turning off the main light and getting between the covers. She slipped the book under the pillow, and turned the reading lamp on. Maybe she would read something else to calm her down.

     Words tangled in her mind as she tried to read them, interspersed with the image of white spider hands on the very book she was holding. Who was he? She flipped onto her back, closing her eyes. He had known her name. But she didn’t feel like he was a stalker, it just felt like she’d known him for years.  Had he run into her by accident? Perhaps the book was supposed to be given to her? She sighed, wondering what hairless spiders might feel like. Dextrous fingers, she imagined, sliding along the spine of the book, a thumb caressing each corner of the page as he flicked through, looking for something specific. The image was so clear, so real, had she seen this before?

     That thumb moving from book to some part of her – she smiled, and flicked out the reading lamp. Maybe it was that kind of moment, she decided. Full body contact as the books had flown; followed by some private pleasure as she thought of his hands. He looked like a pianist. He looked like he would know what to do with them. She could see it so clearly; she wondered when she had dreamed it before.

     Her hands were cold, just like his looked. His skin was so pale he looked like ice, like he wasn’t quite human. Doctor of what, she wondered? Doctor of phalanges, she decided with a naughty grin at the dark. Faint lights drew lines across her wall from the window, pointing at shadowy items in her room. She slipped her hand across her belly, and placed her index finger directly onto her clit. The cold burned all the way down into her most private places; and she gasped with a dry mouth. Her fingers were so numb from cold, they could have been someone else’s, could have been his, with laughing brown eyes and a warm mouth at the end of them. 

     Her breath plumed in the air as the temperature dropped. She snuggled deeper into her quilt. Her finger was warming up, and so was everything else. The Doctor’s long slim fingers on her most private parts, slipping and sliding, easing and exploring… she began to rock her hips against her finger, feeling the flush on her cheeks of oncoming orgasm.  Thin fingers probing deep within her, hot mouth on hers, she came in seconds.

     Who was he? She wondered drowsily as she curled up in bed. And why did she have his book? Dreams stole into her sleep as a long fingered man kissed her forehead, slipped one hand under her pillow and pulled the book from its hiding place.

     ‘Never change, Rose. Please,” he whispered, and kissed her again. He lingered for too long; she moaned and her eyes fluttered.

     “Doctor,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me,” she said, clear despite her slumber. 

     He leaned in to kiss her one more time, and a tear drop slipped from his cheek, falling to hers.

     Jerked awake, Rose sat up, one hand going to her cheek. Crying in her sleep again? Images flicked in her mind’s eye; an absolute whopper of a dream. She wiped the moisture away with a small frown, and settled back into her bed. Her dreams had been so marvellous, so full of adventures and excitement. Nothing like real life, she ought to write some of it down.

     Her eye lids slipped down, and before she could feel for her notebook, she was asleep, back in the TARDIS with a handsome pale man.

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my lovely beta Mynxii


End file.
